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I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry.

He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Ps. 40:1–3

Heavenly Father, my heart goes out today to those whose weariness is growing, and whose patience is growing thin. It didn’t leave many “slimy pits,” but no one saw the straight-line winds coming last Sunday evening to our area. Now many remain without power, some with fallen oak trees in their living rooms. Working from home just got more complicated.

You’ve never commanded anything without supplying the grace to obey your commands; and you’ve never made an empty promise. So help us cast our already-pandemic-complicated cares on you, Father. Help my friends—in many states, countries, and stories—to not grow weary in well-doing or exasperated with faith-trusting.

Bring glory to yourself, Father, as you bring grace to us. Put a song in our hearts, even before you put the words on our lips. All of us know you have a great “track record” of being kind, faithful, and generous. The Gospel is proof-positive, and eternal evidence, this is true. You gave Jesus to us, and for us. Thank you Father.

Oh “pit-rescuing” Father, continue to help each of us, as we navigate this next season of mask-wearing, social-precaution, schedule-adjusting life. Supernaturally, take care of our health-care community. Economically, help the jobless, fearful, and waiting. Spiritually, renew all of our hearts in the sure hope, sufficient grace, and daily mercies that are ours in Jesus. So Very Amen we pray, in his lovely and praise-worthy name.

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